


give it to me strong

by labellementeuse



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: BDSM, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Open Relationships, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Threesome, Spanking, sex tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 13:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labellementeuse/pseuds/labellementeuse
Summary: Sometimes Ronan can't be there to give Lovett what he needs. Luckily, Tommy can.
Relationships: Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor, Ronan Farrow/Jon Lovett (implied), pre-Ronan Farrow/Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	give it to me strong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/gifts).

> Marina, thanks for a great prompt and ot3! I really hope this hits some of the spots and I hope you've enjoyed Yuletide this year :)
> 
> A million thanks to C for being the main reason I finished and to M for her meticulous and encouraging beta. It's not her fault I ignored her about some of these commas.

"Is this weird?" Lovett pulls away from Tommy just enough to break the kiss. "This is weird. Isn't it?"

"Uh." Tommy swallows, trying to kick his brain slightly back on. "Actually, no. It's not weird at all." 

"Which is weird," says Lovett, triumphantly. Apparently content with that, he goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Tommy again.

Tommy lets him, gives him back kiss for kiss, and slides a hand from the small of Lovett's back down to grope his ass through the hideous shorts. He squeezes, gently, then pulls back far enough to slap Lovett's ass. Lovett jolts forward and gasps into Tommy's mouth in a very satisfying way, and Tommy redoubles his efforts. He cups Lovett's face with one hand to keep him still so he can bite kisses into his mouth, and uses the other hand to smack Lovett at random intervals. Lovett makes stifled noises every time Tommy gets a good wind-up, and every time he does Tommy feels his dick twitch. 

At the next good smack Lovett outright whimpers, and Tommy backs out of the kiss, just a little, just enough that he can see Lovett. He's flushed, mouth red and eyes wide; he blinks up at Tommy looking uncharacteristically shy. "You're … good at that," he says. 

"Thank you," Tommy says, "you're not so bad yourself." 

He draws Lovett back to him until Lovett is clinging to him and whimpering almost constantly. Then, with an effort, he steps away. "Okay, okay," he says. "We have an agenda." He's watching Lovett, so he sees him actually shiver. "Bedroom?"

"I mean, sure," Lovett says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. They walk through the house and it's like Tommy can almost see Lovett putting himself back together. "You can spank me in the bedroom like a really conventional person. You know, if that's what you're into," Lovett says, warming up to his theme as he brushes through his half-open bedroom door. "If that's the kind of person you are, Tommy, then –"

"You should get on the bed," Tommy says. Lovett takes a breath, probably to tell Tommy how conventional he is to suggest fucking on a bed, so Tommy adds, "Actually, forget should. Get on the bed," as firmly as he can manage, "and take off your clothes." 

Taking off his own shirt, he drops it on the plush armchair under the window.

"I - okay," Lovett says, bluster deflated a little. He ducks his head and starts peeling himself out of his shirt. 

Tommy watches appreciatively as Lovett strips. He goes to sit on the edge of the bed, and Tommy stops him while he steps out of his own jeans. "Uh-uh. Hands and knees," and he watches with satisfaction as Lovett starts to blush again, but does what he's told. "Good," Tommy says, and goes to rummage through the middle drawer of Ronan's bedside cabinet, where Ronan told him to look.

There's quite an array. Paddles in various materials, light floggers, heavier-looking knotted floggers – even a riding crop, which makes Tommy laugh to himself because it seems like such a Ronan implement. He can't quite imagine himself using it on Lovett, but he grabs it, a couple of the floggers, and a paddle he's pretty sure is made by the same company he bought one of his from and then heads back over to the bed. He lays them all down on the bed in front of Lovett, doing his best to look like he's not watching Lovett's face too carefully. 

Lovett's eyes dart between the various implements. "Ambitious," he says. But Tommy sees him biting his lip, and - when Tommy sneaks a peek - his dick is still hard. 

"We'll see how we go," Tommy says, and runs his hand down Lovett's spine like he's a cat, firmly enough to see Lovett's shoulders loosen, before he smacks Lovett's ass. It's not very hard – he's not trying to hurt Lovett, not just yet – but it startles him, as he intended, and Lovett's shoulders tighten back up a little. 

"We'll warm up a bit," Tommy says.

"Who's we?" Lovett retorts. "It's not your ass getting beaten here." 

Tommy gives him a good one for that, enough that he yelps – but he's laughing too, and Tommy laughs with him.

"I knew you'd do that. Doms are so predictable."

"Yeah, yeah," Tommy says, and hits him again. "Okay, I don't want you to count or anything, but you know what to say if you want to stop." 

"From a couple of hand spanks? Don't get ahead of your – ow," and they're both still half-laughing as Tommy starts warming Lovett up in earnest. 

He doesn't spend too long with his hand - five or ten minutes, he guesses; he took off his watch and he's lost track of time - but soon enough his palm is beginning to sting and Lovett's ass is pink. Lovett's mainly stopped laughing, but not sassing. Tommy gives him a couple of lighter strokes, and Lovett says, "You call this a spanking?" 

A few harder strokes in a row, though, have Lovett squirming and calling Tommy a monster. 

"You're the monster," Tommy says, tolerant, and gives him a far-less-tolerant smack, the hardest yet. Lovett jolts forward and actually spits out a "Sorry" that Tommy's pretty sure he doesn't mean but that he's still satisfied by. 

"I don't believe you," he says, "but my hand is getting sore." He walks deliberately for the few paces to the front of the bed, just so Lovett can watch him pick up the paddle, carefully. He checks in as he does so; Lovett's face is red and his mouth is hanging open, but he's not crying yet. It's suddenly, for a second, so fucking weird to see Lovett like this. Tommy's seen him happy and sad, devastated and furious, heartbroken and jubilant, but in a decade of friendship he's never seen Lovett quite like this.

He clocks Tommy checking in on him, and gives him a grin. "This is wild, huh?"

It's just the right thing to say; Tommy feels the tension go out of him. "You're not wrong," he says, and leans in deliberately to kiss Lovett. It's already different from kissing him earlier – more familiar, but easier, too, as Lovett lets Tommy in obediently. It's so good; he's so good. Tommy gets a hand in Lovett's hair and tilts his head back, feeling Lovett strain upwards for the kiss, and feels his dick twitch. 

"Okay," he says, pulling back a bit. With the tension drained, he's starting to reach that place he gets to when he's really into a scene: warm, relaxed, and in control, like Lovett really wants to listen to him and do what Tommy wants, and all Tommy has to do is make sure that's what happens. 

Tommy wants him to cry, suddenly. It's the plan – it's been the plan from when Ronan called him last week and asked him for a favour – and sure, he'd been intellectually interested, inspired, turned on enough to agree to maybe risking one of his oldest friendships. But now Tommy wants it viscerally, wants to take Lovett's beloved, familiar face and see it streaked with tears, wants to take Lovett to the place where he doesn't need his smart mouth and couldn't access it if he wanted to. He wants to make Lovett let go. 

He can do that. He firms up his grip on the paddle, kisses Lovett once more, briefly, and then gets back into position at the foot of the bed.

"Ready?" he says, and doesn't wait for Lovett to say anything before he lands a firm blow. The paddle feels good in his hand; it is the same one he has at home, he's pretty sure now. The heft is familiar. So is the noise it makes. 

The noise Lovett makes is less familiar. But it's good. 

He thinks he takes longer with the paddle, though he's really not sure. He doesn't say much - he doesn't need to - but Lovett starts out swearing and gets less and less verbal as his ass slowly turns red beneath Tommy's methodical strokes. Three quick hits on top of each other, and Lovett whimpers; a pause followed by one heavy stroke and Lovett makes a shocked sound. It's so, so good, and Tommy's so, so turned on. 

After a while, Tommy's not sure how long, Lovett's noises make their way back to words. The content's different, though. "Please," he's saying, and "Sorry," and "I'll be good, please, I'll be good now."

It would make Tommy a little anxious, but he's not, because Ronan said this would happen.

***

"So he gets apologetic." Ronan's voice is warm down the line; Tommy shifts a little on the couch, trying to focus on learning as much as he can about what Lovett likes in bed instead of how turned on he is. 

"I've been with people who do that before," Tommy says. "It's like, a physical reaction, not necessarily their actual sentiment."

"Right," Ronan says. "And I wouldn't usually let up on him when he does it - he knows how to safeword, I promise." 

"Uh, yeah." Tommy half-laughs. "That's good to know, though."

"It's hard when you're playing with someone for the first time."

"Yeah. It's not always easy to know whether someone's, y'know, just trying to show off, especially if you haven't built that trust level."

"Jonathan trusts you," Ronan says. "We wouldn't be doing this if he didn't," and Tommy packs that away into his chest, feeling warm. "And I'm grateful, by the way." Ronan pauses; Tommy can almost hear him considering and discarding sentences, before he lands on, "I'm really glad you can be here for him like this." 

"Right," he says, and clears his throat. "So I should keep going?"

"I do," Ronan says. "But you'll be calling the shots. If you want to take a break, you can."

"Maybe," Tommy allows. "I could bring out - do you guys have rope?"

"Sure. We don't use it that much, but we have it. Lovett's liked it before, it's just a bit time-consuming for me. In the drawer below the paddles."

Tommy hesitates. If they don't use it that often, maybe he should bring his own. "The good stuff, though? Not like, twine."

"Thomas," Ronan says, "I'm offended that you think I would buy anything but the best for Jonathan."

"Good point," Tommy says, "what was I thinking?"

"You must have been thinking of somebody else." 

***

Pretty much every preview Ronan gave him for how it would be to be with Lovett like this has come true, actually. Tommy guesses when you're with someone as long as Ronan and Lovett have been together, you learn how they react. Not that he'd know. 

He squashes down the brief burst of envy that flushes through him at that, tosses down the paddle, and makes his way to the front of the bed, where Lovett's still faintly talking, making small begging noises. He's still red, maybe even redder. Tears have gathered at the corners of his eyes, but he's not crying, not how Tommy wants him to be; he can feel that Lovett's still present, still trying to hold himself together. 

Tommy crouches down in front of Lovett to meet his eyes, stroking a hand gently through his hair. "How are you doing?"

Lovett's mouth works. "I'm - it's a lot, Tommy."

"I know," Tommy says, gently. "You're doing so well."

Lovett tosses his head a little. "Fuck you, I'm doing well," he says. "It fucking hurts." 

Tommy laughs and takes a fistful of Lovett's curls, shakes Lovett's head from side to side. "Be polite," he says, and grins at the frustrated noise Lovett makes. "I'm not hearing what I need to hear if you want me to stop, but let's take a little break." 

He straightens up and moves back down the bed to the cabinet. There are a few hanks of rope in there, when he opens the drawer – cotton, linen, a fancy bit of silk – but his hand goes instinctively to a couple of coils of smooth, well-broken-in jute, and he takes that out. 

He turns back to the bed, and Lovett huffs out a laugh when he sees what's in Tommy's hand.

"Of course you're a rope guy," he says. "I bet you know all the most multi-purpose boat bondage knots." He's calming down a little already; Tommy can almost see the chance to make a joke settling him in the set of his shoulders.

"Making fun of me right now is a really bold move," he says. 

"You love me making fun of you. It's like thirty percent of our friendship," and well, Tommy can't argue with that. 

He shakes his head anyway, for the effect. "Keep telling yourself that," although he's sure Lovett can read his tone – too affectionate to really be a reprimand – and see right through him. He looks at Lovett thoughtfully for a moment, glances down at the rope in his hands, at the tall headboard with its convenient curlicues, and develops an idea. 

"Get on your back," he says. 

Lovett flips over obligingly, but whimpers when his ass hits the sheets. "Ouch," he says. 

"Not so smart-mouthed now," Tommy says. "Okay, scoot up the bed a bit more – now put your hands up – that's about right." He knees his way onto the bed. "You know the drill? Tell me if anything is sore, or starts to tingle or go numb, or stiff."

"_Something's_ stiff," Lovett says, glancing down. 

"I hope you're not proud of that one," Tommy says, and starts working on Lovett's ankles, falling into a familiar, meditative space. He likes rope – always has. He likes the patterns of it. He likes knowing it's something he can get absolutely right. And he likes restraining someone, likes knowing that he's in control of where they go and what they do. He likes putting people exactly where he wants them.

Lovett's satisfying to tie. He tests the knots periodically and lets Tommy know once or twice when it's too tight or too loose, but he stays where he's put, eyes bright as he watches Tommy tie his ankles together and leave a long dangling end. It's a quick enough tie; Tommy kinda indulges himself and makes it a bit more decorative than it really needs to be, but when he's done, he says, "Now, let's give your ass a break," and picks Lovett's ankles up. He uses the long dangling end to tie them to the top of the headboard, so Lovett's lying on his back with his legs up, thighs and most of his ass exposed. And his dick; Tommy cups it in his hand briefly and Lovett's hips come up into his palm. 

Despite the joke earlier, Lovett's mostly soft, but he's responsive, dick fattening up easily in Tommy's hand. Tommy indulges him a little, then pulls back to smack him on his ass where he's dark red. Lovett squirms, and Tommy laughs. "Comfortable?"

"Define comfortable," Lovett says, but he wriggles around a bit and looks pretty content. "Going to do my wrists too?" 

"You know it," Tommy says. He's quicker with Lovett's wrists, loops falling into place easily, and he ties him pretty loosely to the headboard; it's not really necessary for what he wants to do, but the visual is nice. 

Lovett seems to be enjoying it, too, relaxing a little as Tommy ties him off. "This is nice," he says. "We don't really get around to this kind of thing much."

"Yeah, Ronan said," Tommy says. "I like it, and I don't get to do it that often, so."

"I like that," Lovett says. "I'm glad we can do something you like."

"I've liked it all," Tommy says. "Don't think otherwise," and he ducks around to kiss Lovett. Lovett gives it up, soft and easy for Tommy; it's nice, and Tommy briefly considers just breaking now, maybe fucking Lovett, maybe having him suck Tommy off. 

Stay on target, he reminds himself, and pulls away reluctantly. 

When he backs off, though, he gets the full visual of Lovett lying there tied to the headboard, legs up, ass and upper thighs exposed, and fine, pale skin that's just starting to blossom into pink spread out for Tommy. His dick twitches, and he doesn't have to remind himself of anything at all. He knows exactly what he wants to do. "Okay," he says. "We're going to start up again and see where we go." 

Lovett wriggles. "I'm pretty sure you promised Ronan tears," he says. "Which sounds like big talk to me."

Tommy can't help laughing again. "You really can't not do it, can you?"

"All just part of the special gift that is me," Lovett says, dry, and then, "Fuck!" as Tommy swings in hard. 

He has to be a little more careful in this position – careful not to hit anything too sensitive, careful not to go too far down Lovett's thighs. On the other hand, the position he's tied Lovett in stretches the skin, making it vulnerable; he's exposed the sensitive skin on Lovett's thighs; and he already warmed Lovett up. So he takes his time aiming, but he doesn't go easy, starting on the meat of Lovett's ass and marching the paddle relentlessly down each thigh. Lovett passes through the swearing stage quickly this time and spends long minutes making nonverbal yelping noises. 

It's not too long, though, before he starts begging again. "Sorry" makes an appearance. "Please" features. "I can't," he says a few times, and then, a few more times, "Sorry, sorry." 

It's really. Tommy takes a moment to roll his wrist out, and comes back in with another blow. It's really fucking hot. He can feel himself getting hard, heat low in his belly. "I'm not hearing that you want me to stop," he says, and keeps going.

"Fuck," Lovett says, "fuck," just that for a while, voice cracking, until, finally, Tommy hears, "Fuck, Tommy, please - I can't - please - come on - I'll be good - I'll be good now, please - you can fuck me, or I'll blow you, or - please - I'll do whatever you want -"

"You are being good," Tommy says. "You're being so good right now, baby," half embarrassed at the endearment. "You're being so good just taking this for me. That's what I want. You're doing it." 

Lovett makes a choking noise at that, half like he's trying to say something. Tommy hits him again, right where the curve of his ass meets his thigh – and Lovett goes from teary to sobbing, big, loud, involuntary gasps mixed in with what might be Tommy's name.

"That's it," Tommy says, gently. "That's exactly it," and he puts down the paddle and climbs on the bed to hold Lovett down. 

***

Tommy lies with Lovett through the burst of tears; Lovett presses his face into Tommy's chest and Tommy strokes his hair, tenderly, until the sobs slow, and stop. 

"Hey there," Tommy says, after a little while of Lovett breathing hoarsely into his pecs. "Get you a tissue?"

"Please," Lovett says, scratchy-voiced, and Tommy rolls over to grab the box on the cabinet and rolls quickly back into skin-to-skin contact. He wipes Lovett's face with the first tissue, then tosses it on the ground and holds another one up to Lovett's nose. "Blow," he says, firmly, and Lovett laughs, and says "gross", and does what he's told. 

"That's so not hot," Lovett complains. "Devastatingly unsexy."

"The fact that you're too tied up right now to wipe your own face is not not sexy," Tommy tells him. 

"There's no accounting for taste."

"Yeah, yeah." Tommy ditches the dirty tissue over the side of the bed. "You want me to untie you?"

Lovett tests the restraints. "No, um. You should fuck me like this," he says, looking a little shy. "I mean, if you want to."

"Yes," Tommy says, instantly, and watches Lovett get instantly pink and pleased. "I wasn't sure that was on the table but I would be very fucking into that." 

"Well. Good," Lovett says. 

"Yeah," Tommy says, and they grin at each other dumbly for a second before Tommy levers himself up and goes back to the foot of the bed. He surveys the territory. It's nearly perfect, but not quite. "I'm just going to retie your legs," he says. 

"Twist my arm," Lovett says. He looks oddly comfortable lying there, and he stays relaxed as Tommy swiftly unties his ankles. He tips Lovett right up and reties his ankles spread wide to the bed. As he tightens the last rope, even though he's pretty sure this position must be less comfortable, Lovett relaxes a little further. He looks vulnerable, totally at Tommy's mercy, and yet completely at his ease. He looks like he feels safe, which makes Tommy feel both warm and also like something in his throat is a little sore. He wants to make Lovett feel as good as he feels right now.

"I think you're going to need some pillows," he says, and gets a few off the bed and tucks them under Lovett's hips. "You look so fucking hot like this," he says. "Tied up for me, I mean."

Lovett shivers. "Feels great," he says. "Like you can have your way with me, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"That's pretty much exactly it," Tommy says, and runs a possessive hand from Lovett's ankle down to his thigh just to watch Lovett squirm. He fetches lube and a condom from Ronan's cabinet – Ronan is, apparently, thorough when he prepares to get his boyfriend spanked and fucked by their mutual friend – and jerks himself a little to get hard. Looking at Lovett spread out for him like that, it doesn't take long at all before he can slap the condom on, and he lubes up and thumbs gently at Lovett's rim. Lovett jerks beneath him, responsive. 

"You can," he says, and breaks off, and then, "I got ready earlier."

Well, that's hot. Tommy slips a finger into Lovett and finds the going easy, adds another one. "Are you sure? It's been a little while."

"I wouldn't say it if I wasn't."

"You surprise me."

"Come on," Lovett says. "Fuck me already."

He's getting hard again just from Tommy fingering him, which is pretty impressive, considering. Tommy goes a little deeper, crooks his fingers, finds Lovett's prostate and relishes Lovett bucking against the ropes. 

"Please," Lovett says. "Please. You want me to beg?"

"I mean, yeah," Tommy says, and adds another finger to hear Lovett moan about it.

"Fuck," he says. "Please. Tommy, please fuck me, please, I want it, please put your big dick in me, I want it so bad, please, I've been so good -"

"Yeah," Tommy says, dumbly, and draws his fingers out, kneels up on the bed, and slides into Lovett, easy, easy. 

Lovett lets out a long, low moan, and Tommy, with a great effort, holds himself still for a moment. Lovett is hot and tight around him, straining now against the ropes. His eyes are closed; Tommy can see teartracks still drying on his face. He reaches down, stretches a little, brushes his hair out of his face. Lovett's eyes flutter open. He looks at Tommy. 

He's so fucking hot. Tommy's hips buck forward, involuntarily, and Lovett's hips rise to meet him. 

It's all over pretty quickly after that. Tommy gets a foot half-under himself and a grip on Lovett's thigh. He tries to start gently, but between the noises Lovett's making, the faces he's making, and the heat beneath his hands where he's marked Lovett up - put his mark on him - he feels his hips start moving far faster than he means them to.

"I'm gonna," he manages to grunt out.

"Do it," Lovett says. He's panting now, thrusting back against Tommy. "I wanna make you – come on, Tommy –" 

Tommy tightens his grip over the marks he's left on Lovett's thigh. Lovett whimpers. "Fu-uuuuck," Tommy says, and comes, feeling pleasure race up his spine and white out his brain. 

He blinks the world back into place, sagging over Lovett. He's still shaking a little with orgasm but Lovett's still moving beneath him, and with almost unseemly haste he pulls out of Lovett, staving off an incipient complaint by getting a couple of fingers back into him. "I've got you," he says, and puts his mouth on Lovett's dick. 

"You – fuck," Lovett says, and thrashes against the ropes. Tommy has to pull off a little to stop choking, but that's okay; he throws a spare arm over Lovett's hips and pins him down so he can struggle against that. 

He can't quite see Lovett any more, but the reactions are good. He feels Lovett straining against him and doubles down on the suction; he really only gets a few sucks in before Lovett is making an incoherent noise and coming into Tommy's mouth. 

***

Later, after Tommy's untied Lovett and gently rolled him onto his side so he's not putting pressure on his ass and tucked up behind him, holding him, pressing his face into the back of Lovett's neck and feeling him pant, after Lovett's breathing has slowed and Tommy's gotten out of bed and drunk a glass of water naked at the tap and brought Lovett a glass of his own, and picked up the covers from the floor and put them over Lovett and climbed back into bed – later, they call Ronan. 

His face flickers into life on Lovett's phone. He's in his pyjamas, in bed already –well, it's later on the East Coast, Tommy guesses – and he smiles at them both when he sees them. "Boys," he says. "How'd it go?"

"So good," Lovett says. He sounds like the cat that got the cream; Tommy can't help smiling, and sees Ronan doing the same, fond and sweet. 

"I'm glad, baby. How are you doing, Tommy?"

"Good," Tommy says. "Really, really good." 

Ronan bites his lip. "It all went to plan?"

"There was a plan?" Lovett says, faux-indignant. "And here I thought you were all spontaneous and moved by the dom spirit to act on whatever whims you have."

"Sure," Tommy says, agreeably. "That's definitely how it goes," and enjoys watching Ronan's crinkled-face laugh on the fuzzy screen. 

"I wish I were there," Ronan says when he's stopped laughing, looking suddenly sober.

"Me too," Lovett says, and "Me three," Tommy says. He hesitates. "Maybe next time you're in town … this could be not a one-time-only thing."

"You could spit-roast me," Lovett says, instantly, and Tommy barks a startled laugh, hearing Ronan do exactly the same. 

"So you're saying you've thought about it," Ronan says. 

"I'm not a saint," Lovett says. "But you'd be up for it, and so would Tommy. Wouldn't you, Tommy?" 

It's such a familiar tone. Tommy hasn't heard it, admittedly, in quite this context, but he knows exactly what it means when Lovett talks like this, confidence over insecurity, brash challenge that asks, in Lovett's quietest voice, for reassurance. 

Luckily, he's more than happy to give it. "I would," he said. "Any time you want spit-roasting, Lovett, you just say the word."

"Spit-roasting followed by cuddles," Lovett says, looking content. 

"I think we can make that happen," Ronan says, pink and pleased. 

Tommy can feel heat on his own cheeks; he probably looks exactly the same. He ducks his head a little. "Can't wait," he says.


End file.
